Gas-Guzzling Gladiator

Some of you might remember my love-hate relationship with my car. Well, yesterday she managed to up her cool-factor quite a bit. A little Honda Civic tried to mess with her and she rearranged his grill. It was a typical girl-fight - she crumpled up his license plate and shoved it into his front bumper. Seriously, I did get rear-ended yesterday night and when I got out to inspect the damage, I was amazed to see that the Equinox was in pristine condition (as pristine as a car can be when it gets a bath twice a year). Apparently, Equi prefers her trailer hitch as her weapon of choice. This is only funny because it is the wimpiest trailer hitch ever created. I would be surprised if it could tow a Rascal scooter. But everyone was safe and the damage was not mine so it really was a minor speed bump in my evening.

I've saved the funniest part of the story for last . . . When I called 911 to ask them to come and file an accident report, the first question the operator asked after checking for injuries was this: "Has the accident already occurred?" Umm, no, but I was just about to go on a rear-ending rampage and I thought you should be the first to know. Here's your sign.

Toddler Vocabulary Quiz

Q1. Jackson wants a "tish". What should you do?

A1. Bring him the Kleenex box. Let him pull the tissue out ALL BY HIMSELF. Hold the tissue so he can blow his nose. That's right . . . he blows his own nose. My daddy claims that he thought I would never learn to blow my nose. Apparently, I was a snot sniffer. I promise I am over it now.

Q2. A "mo-mo" has been spotted. Where are you?

A2. You are more than likely hurtling down the highway, but don't think that excuses you from your responsibility to express your extreme excitement about the motorcycle that just went whizzing past you. The little guy LOVES motorcycles. He searches them out whenever we ride in the car. He begs to check on his Grandpa's bike every evening. He can spot a Harley symbol at 50 paces. Indoctrination? Maybe just a little.

Q3. How many times will Jackson repeat no before he thinks his slow-witted parents are able to understand?

A3. Exactly 3 - no, no, NO. At this point, it is really adorable. He starts in this sweet little voice and shakes his head. We are feeling the expiration date on this brand of adorable quickly approaching.

Q4. Which is more important - the names of items or the sounds they make?

A4. Obviously the sounds, and you should give anyone who tells you otherwise the crazy look.

Q5. Jackson keeps announcing "peas" and seems to be playing air guitar on his chest. What is going on with this kid?

A5. Isn't he polite? That's please . . . and you better figure out "please, what?" soon . . . or else things could get ugly. Incidentally, he prefers his peas frozen. Umm, whatever it takes for you to choke them down, I guess.

Hugs and Kisses from Dark Helmet

Preparing to go ludicrious speed?

May the schwartz be with you!

Aided by the Gator

If a love for a certain beverage makes one a Gator, I will soon need to start writing checks to the University of Florida. You see, a week of stomach stress has left my poor little guy a Gatorade addict. It all started innocently enough. We were battling dehydration and I asked the pediatrician if I should give him Pedialyte. The doc said (and I quote), "Have you ever had that stuff! It's gross! He's old enough for Gatorade." All righty then. I won't be testing that out. For the record, I did not try a single baby food that I fed Jackson. Not one. The potential for retching in front of him when the strained peas passed my lips was far worse than the thought that I haven't previewed every morsel he's ever consumed. But I'm not sure Gatorade is any better. USA Today gives this little history on Gatorade development:

"In 1965, Florida researchers, led by Robert Cade, after studying sweat to see what nutrients the body lost during athletic activity, created a fluid to replace them. The researchers convinced the Florida football team to use it, but they could not interest their own school in marketing the new-fangled concoction, and couldn't find a anyone else until Stokely Van Camp began producing it in 1967."

Yeah, I think I'm going to pass on that marketing angle as well. "Gatorade. This is what your sweat tastes like."

Regardless, Jackson LOVES the Gatorade. So we gave it to him instead of milk all last week. This afternoon, his stomach completely recovered (mostly because he gave the nasty bug to me!), he ripped open the fridge with super-human strength so that he could show me that his beverage of choice was in there. And there were to be no substitutions. I was becoming concerned that he would stage a sit-in right there in the kitchen. He won that round. However, he was later tricked into drinking the moo juice because there was a straw option.

Oh, and he prefers the BLUE Gatorade. Surely it's because RED and BLACK RAIDERADE is not available!

Madness of the Residential Kind

Poor, poor blog. How I have neglected you. Honestly, these days, more often than not, I am looking at my calendar and wondering where the time has gone. For today, I thought I would fill you in on where January went.

Last month, Tiffany pointed out that it looked like we were doing some remodeling. Well . . . not exactly. Ever since Jonathan and I have had cable television, we have watched a lot of HGTV (mostly when I had custody of the remote). I was completely captivated by the transformations people were able to make to their homes. Jonathan was more than a little inspired by the power of incorporating real estate in one's investment portfolio. And once the house-flipping show genre came on the scene, we were constantly saying, "We can do it better." I was saying that from the comfort of my couch, probably wearing sweats. My beloved, on the other hand, was quite serious.

And so in November everything fell into place and Jonathan bought a house of his very own. And the marathon of remodeling began. The house was built in the early 80s and it enjoyed every decorating trend of that stylish period. Floral wallpaper, intercoms in every room, saloon doors in the master bath, Aggie maroon toilet/shower/countertop, a Red Raider wet bar, and the most evil wall-to-wall wood paneling man has ever known. We painted every square inch of that house. And we did it as a family (me, Jonathan, his mom and dad, and one crazy two year old). It was pure madness.

But in the end, that house looks great. I am so proud of all the hard work Jonathan put into it, and I am even more proud of him for turning our couch potato conversations into a reality. Oh, and just so you don't think I am boasting without evidence, the house was under contract after 6 days on the market!!!

There is but one issue left one the table - how do I get this paint out of my hair?

Below is the AMAZING transformation. Enjoy.

Two is Terrific

My sweet baby boy is turning two today! It has been a crazy, wild ride and even though I am still desperately searching for the user's manual of motherhood, I continue to love every minute. Jonathan and I are so blessed to have this sweet little guy in our lives.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JACKSON!!!

We love you.

2 minutes old

2 days old

2 weeks old

2 months old

12 months old

20 months old

2 years old

The Christmas Craft

Christmas seemed to arrive like an atomic blast around here this past year. I am just now making my way out of the bunker. But one craft project did survive the bullet train of a holiday celebration. The family Christmas stockings? No, those made it as far as the stacking of fabric in my dining room. The "quiet book" I had planned for Jackson? Nope, it's in the dining room too. Years and years of scrapbooking? No, no, let's not overexert ourselves. This year's completed Christmas craft is BRADY BLOCKS! They were so much fun to make and they turned out pretty cute! I'll be leaving the rest of my craft projects for my crafter's intervention. I wouldn't want to disappoint.